
f*° ^'^^'^ VHi'^Digitized bythe InternefArclniv^ '''•'%^*' ^"^ 
^\<' ,.,.^%''°" in 2010 with funding from , '^^j. *'"''' o^^ ,c 
^"^ /^'^A %^ ^^The^Library of Congress i;^ %o^^ »\§ 







V -^^ ^^ • 
» A. ^ 






^"^^ 



o V 

%.^' •^^= ^^/ ■^^'' "-^ 







6- 



\^^^'\<fy^^ ^^o/^'^^^V ^/^^^-^V 

♦ ^^ http://www.archive.org/defails/uoncordfightapri 



iOOrey-r] %, 






.^^■ 



0^ 



^;^ 



.0^ 



0^ 









^ V .J 

..■V y.ii^v -^ 



oV 







■s. o 



Concord Fight 



APRIL 19, 1775. 



BY 



REV. GRIND ALL REYNOLDS, 
CONCORD, M^SS. 




A. WILLIAMS & CO., 

CORNER OF SCHOOL AND WASHINGTON STREETS, 

BOSTON. 

1875. 



Concord Fight 



APRIL 19, 1775. 



BY 



^ 



KEY. GRINDALL REYNOLDS, 
CONCORD, m:a^ss. 




A. WILLIAMS & CO., 

CORNER OF SCHOOL AND WASHINGTON STREETS, 

BOSTON. 

1875. 

<7V 






Press of 

TOLMAN & WHITE, 

383 Washington Street, Boston. 



CONCORD FIGHT. 



[Repkinted feom the Unitaeian Review and Religious Magazine.] 



What was there in the character and position of 
the town of Concord a hundred years ago, or in its 
relations to the larger interests and transactions of 
the times, to make it the object of the first really 
powerful, hostile movement of the British governor? 
Any one who visits Concord now finds a neat, quiet 
town, of moderate size, girdled by low hills, and look- 
ing out upon broad green meadows, and upon the 
most winding and most tranquil of rivers. It is a 
pleasant town to see, and restful to the eye. To its own 
children it seems as towns are apt to seem, the pleas- 
antest spot on the earth. To a stranger, no doubt, it 
does not differ essentially from scores of villages which 
nestle amid our hills, or sun themselves along our 
streams. 

It is very difficult, therefore, in 1875, to appreciate 
that in 1775 this quiet town was one of the great 
centres, not only of intellectual life, but also of political 
influence and power. Yet so it must have been. Of 
all our inland settlements in population, it was almost 
the largest, in resources almost the wealthiest. As a 
shire town there came to it necessarily that continual 
excitement which stimulates in any community mental 
activity. Thither, five or six times a year, came the 
various courts of law, with their retinue of judges, 



6 CoNCOED Fight. 

jurors, lawyers, and suitors, numbering many scores : and 
came, not as now, borne quickly there by the railroad 
in the morning, and as quickly away at night, but to 
make the town a home for days and weeks. Here con- 
ventions for all manner of objects of county interest 
were accustomed to gather. Here, especially, in Puri- 
tan fashion, in the meeting-house, the choice spirits of 
the county, or, as Paul Revere termed them, the high 
sons of liberty, met to discuss grievances, to deepen the 
love of freedom, and the purpose to resist oppression, 
and, above all, to ripen feeling of patriotism or indigna- 
tion into wise action. It was not an unimportant cir- 
cumstance either that Concord was the first settlement 
in the State off tide-water. For a time our fathers clung 
to the rocky and barren shores of that ocean which 
divided them from their old home. At Plymouth, at 
Salem, at Boston, at Dorchester and Roxbury, and at 
many other places on the seaboard, the germs of flourish- 
ing towns and cities were planted. But inland there 
was nothing but the wilderness and the savage. Not 
until fifteen years after that immortal voyage of the 
"Mayflower," in 1635, did a little band of Puritans cross 
the first barrier of hills which shuts from sight the 
ocean, and settle by the side of what the Indian called, 
from its wide meadows, the " grass-ground river." They 
named the new home Concord, — title strangely unpro- 
phetic of that bitter fight which ushered in the bitterer 
struggles of the Revolution ! As a necessary result of 
this early origin, the town became one of the few hives 
from whose redundance New England was peopled. 
Everywhere its children went. In all the towns along 
the seaboard of Maine, in the new settlements which 
were springing up in southern New Hampshire and 
Vermont, in the younger villages of Middlesex and 
Worcester Counties, m far off Connecticut, as it was then, 
there were men and women whose ancestral home was 
within the territorial limits of old Concord. So its name 
was a household word on the lips of many who never 



CoNcoED Fight. 7 

had seen, and perhaps never should see it, with the 
bodily eye. 

Thus, from various reasons it happened that, in 1775, 
among all the inland towns in eastern Massachusetts, 
Concord was the most prominent, — the natural, as it 
was the political, centre of the great and patriotic county 
of Middlesex. It was a small town, as we estimate 
towns, never in its best estate before the Revolution 
having exceeded two thousand people. But we must 
not forget that Massachusetts, according to modern 
standards, was itself a small State. 

It was no doubt on account of this prominency in 
character and position, that Concord was, from the 
beginning, chosen to be the place for the first meeting 
of the first Provincial Congress of Massachusetts. In 
making this statement, we do not overlook the just 
claims of Salem. It was at Salem that the vote was 
passed which created that Congress. It was at Salem, 
too, that the General Court resolved to become a part of 
that Congress. But we repeat, in its wholeness, with 
all the members which constituted it, the Provincial 
Congress first met and transacted business at Concord. 
As the creation of a Provincial Congress drew after it 
by almost necessary sequence " Lexington Alarm," Con- 
cord Fight, Bunker Hill, and to no little degree the 
national independence, it is well to count the steps by 
which it came into existence. In the summer of 1774 
thoughtful people saw that a break between the legis- 
lative and executive branches was at hand, — to be 
followed, inevitably, by a stern struggle for supremacy 
between the two. When that break took place, where 
should the representatives of the people find a legisla- 
tive home ? Boston was dominated by a great British 
army. Salem and all the sea-coast towns would, in event 
of trouble, be at the mercy of British fleets. A town, itself 
thoroughly patriotic, and surrounded by a population of 
the same temper, near enough to Boston to be in com- 
munication with its sons of liberty, far enough from it 



8 Concord Fight. 

to be safe from the interference or threats of the royal 
governor, seemed to be the first requisite. All eyes turned 
to Concord. A convention of the best men in Middlesex, 
held in its meeting-house, "voted, August 31, 1774, 
that each town in the county be recommended to elect 
one or more delegates to attend a Provincial meeting, 
to be holden at Concord, the second Tuesday in October." 
Suffolk County, in an equally important convention, 
held at Mr. Vose's house, Milton, September 9, recom- 
mended to its towns the same course. Cumberland 
County, in what was then the distant province of Maine, 
added its voice to the same effect, September 22. And 
Worcester County spake with no uncertain sound. It 
advised "its towns to instruct the Representatives, who 
may be chosen to meet at Salem, in October next, 
absolutely to refuse to be sworn by any officer or 
officers but such as are or may be appointed according 
to the constitution. And should anything prevent their 
acting with the Governor and Council, as is set forth in 
the charter, that they immediately repair to the town 
of Concord, and there join in a Promncial Congress 
with such other members as are or may he chosen for 
that purpose." The General Court met at Salem, Oct. 
5, 1774, waited two days for the Governor to take the 
proper steps to qualify its members, — waited, as no 
doubt it expected to wait, in vain, — and then proceeded 
on the seventh to elect John Hancock its chairman, and 
Benjamin Lincoln its clerk, and by the following votes 
to merge its own existence into that of the new and 
larger body: "Voted, that the members aforesaid do 
now resolve themselves into a Provincial Congress, to 
he joined by such other persons as may have beeii, or 
shall be chosen for that purpose, to take into considera- 
tion the dangerous and alarming situation of public 
affairs in the province, and to consult and determine on 
such measures as they shall judge will tend to promote 
the true interests of his Majesty in the peace, welfare 
and prosperity of the province. Voted, that the Con- 



Concord Fight. 9 

gress be adjourned to the meeting-liouse in Concord." 
Arrived at Concord the second Tuesday in October, 
the first business was to reconsider the votes by which 
John Hancock was elected chairman, and Benjamin 
Lincoln clerk, and then to elect the same persons to 
similar positions under the titles of President and Sec- 
retary. Such action was had, no doubt, because the 
presence of additional members made the form of reor- 
ganization both respectful and proper. It is absolutely 
certain that in some cases such additional members 
were chosen. It is well-nigh certain that more than 
one-half of those who were at Concord were not elected 
to Salem. The body thus reorganized and its successor 
for six months met alternately at Concord and Cam- 
bridcre. The Second Provincial Congress was in Con- 
cord in March and April, 1775, and adjourned only four 
days before the encounter at North Bridge. By its 
sessions there it must have helped largely to make the 
town an object of interest to the friends, and an object 
of enmity to the foes, of freedom. In that old meeting- 
house, which, repaired and remodelled, alas ! stands now 
on the same church green, what words, to fire men's 
souls, were spoken, what policy, to sliape the destiny of 
the state, was enacted ! There, Joseph Warren, John 
Hancock, Samuel and John Adams, Elbridge Gerry, 
names memorable in the state and national history for 
the next generation, and with them Prescott, Heath, 
Ward, Lincoln, the first military leaders of the Revo- 
lution, played their part. Scarcely Independence Hall 
itself has more venerable associations. 

As a natural consequence the committees of safet}^ 
and supplies — the most important bodies which ever 
existed in the Commonwealth, to whom the whole work 
of arousing the people and preparing for their defence 
was intrusted, who were to call into existence soldiery, 
to find officers, to procure arms, to gather supplies, to 
appoint depots, to be, as it were, eyes and hands to all 
the rest — were constantly at Concord. They were 



10 Concord Fight. 

there — John Hancock at their head — on the 17th of 
April, not more than thirty-six hours before brave men 
were massacred almost before his eves on Lexington 
Green. 

Very early in the history of these committees, it is 
stated that they ordered to be deposited in Worcester 
two Imndred barrels of pork, four hundred of flour, and 
one hundred and fifteen bushels of peas ; and in Con- 
cord, one hundred and thirty-five barrels of pork, three 
hundred of flour, one hundred and fifty bushels of peas, 
and fifty-five tierces of rice ; and " voted, that all the 
cannon, mortars, cannon-balls and shells be deposited in 
the towns of Worcester and Concord in the same pro- 
portions as the provisions are to be deposited." These 
votes, so far as Worcester was concerned, were never 
carried into effect. But Concord became one great 
store-house. Every farmer's barn, the town-house, the 
courtrhouse, the tavern-shed, the miller's loft, all became 
extempore depots for provisions and munitions of war. 
Very likely in other places there were limited sujDplies. 
But gradually, in comparison with the means of the 
State, a vast store was accumulated at Concord. Eleven 
hundred tents, ten tons of cartridges, eighteen tons of 
rice, eight tons of fish, manj^ hundred barrels of flour, 
fifteen thousand canteens, a thousand iron pots, besides 
cannon and mortars, round-shot and grape-shot, canister 
and shells, spades, pick-axes, bill-hooks, shovels, axes, 
hatchets, crows and wheelbarrows, wooden-plates and 
spoons, cartouch-boxes and holsters, belts and saddles, 
and many other articles, make up this astonishing 
deposit. No doubt Concord was made such a depot 
because it was a large town, and had several military 
companies ; because, too, it was near the probable scene 
of action, yet fir enough away to be reasonably safe 
from any sudden attack. One cannot but think that 
the thoroughly trustworthy character of Col. James 
Barrett, who was the sole custodian of these treasures, 
must have entered largely into the calculation. The 



Concord Fight. 11 

committee were awcare liow precious was the charge 
committed to the brave old town. They enjoin Col. 
Barrett to keep watch day and night. He must always 
have teams ready to transport away the goods at the 
first alarm. He " must not so much as mention the 
name powder, lest our enemies should take advantage 
of it." But such a secret could not be kept. Tories 
stole to Boston to tell it. British officers came thither 
in disguise, noting all the difficulties of the way, and 
seeking to find the places of deposit. Tradition says 
that Maj. Pitcairn had visited the town. Finally the 
committee was alarmed, and the day before the battle, 
too late fully to accomplish their purpose, ordered that 
the munitions and provisions should be distributed 
among nine different towns. Meanwhile each patriot 
in Boston was a volunteer sentinel, watching every 
movement of Gen. Gage, with eye quick to detect each 
change of military position, with ear open to catch the 
faintest whisper of danger. So that when the royal 
Governor resolved upon action, almost before he gave 
his order to Col. Smith to march to Concord and destroy 
there the munitions of war, his counsels were known ; 
and, while the soldiery w^ere embarking to cross Charles 
River, Paul Revere was taking that adventurous ride, 
over which noet and historian alike delight to lino:er. 

Why did the fight happen at Concord ? It could 
happen nowhere else. With Boston for a centre, 
within a radius of twenty-five miles there was no other 
spot where Gage could strike to such profit. He might, 
indeed, in quiet villages find men to whom it was sweet 
to die for country ; for brave hearts were plenty then. 
He might burn the humble homes of those who loved 
freedom more than safety. But such acts exasperated 
rather than weakened. But, at Concord, had the four 
hundred militia, gathered on Ponkawtasset Hill, held 
aloof, and left the provincial stores to the mercy of the 
British troops twenty-four hours, Gage had struck a 
deadlier blow than if he had slain five hundred on the 



12 CoNCOKD Fight. 

battle-field. The direction of his march was neither of 
accident nor of choice, but of necessity. When Revere 
knew that Gage was on the war-path, he did not have 
to ask whither to ride. 

But what hapjDened at Concord ? A body of Ameri- 
can soldiers, organized under legal authority, at the com- 
mand of their officers, advanced, in military arra}^, 
received the fire of the enemy, and, when ordered, 
attacked and forced a similar body of British troops to 
retreat. This is what distino-uishes the fight at old North 
Bridge from all previous affairs. Not to speak of the 
troubles in North Carolina, there had already been in 
New England hostile incidents and meetings more than 
one, though they are fast being forgotten. The boy 
Snider, who was shot in Boston streets the 22nd of 
February, 1770, was unquestionably the first revolu- 
tionary martyr. But he was murdered, not by a British 
soldier, but by a British sympathizer, who, resenting the 
posting of a brother tory, was driven home by a band 
of boys with many hoots and some stones, and in his 
fury shot a little fellow of eleven years, who happened 
to be present. Eleven days after, the Boston Massacre 
followed. Here a squad of British soldiers fired a vol- 
ley into a crowd of people, killing three and wounding 
eight persons, most of whom had committed no offence 
whatever. But the affair was so connected with pre- 
vious quarrels, and with immediate threats and insults, 
that an American jury, rather than run the risk of in- 
justice, substantially acquitted the soldiery. The next 
encounter in order is the burning of the "Gaspee," — 
one of the most gallant achievements of the whole 
period. The " Gaspee " was a British schooner of eight 
guns, which haunted the waters of Narragansett Bay, 
and, with little cause, and no evidence of rightful 
authority, stopped and harassed the vessels plying there- 
upon. This sea-wasp, pursuing a peaceful packet, got 
aground a few miles below Providence. John Brown, of 
that place, with others, fitted out eight whale-boats. 



CoNCOKD Fight. 13 

which dropped down the river on the evening of June 
9, 1772, and reached the stranded vessel a little after 
midnight. After a brief struggle, the schooner was cap- 
tured, her crew put ashore, and she burned. In the 
affray her commander, Lieut. Duddingston, was wounded, 
and could justly claim that from his veins had come the 
first English blood shed in the contest. Capt. Abraham 
Whipple led the Americans, and thus was engaged in 
the earliest private naval exploit, as three years later 
he commanded in the first public naval battle. But 
gallant as the achievement certainly was, it was a private 
expedition, and always disallowed by the Rhode Island 
authorities. Boston gave its celebrated tea-party Dec. 
16, 1773. The festivities, though they closed with a 
masquerade and a libation to Neptune, need not be de- 
scribed. They certainly were not presided over by the 
authorities. Feb. 2 G, 1775, Col. Leslie stole out of Castle 
William with two hundred men, and made a rapid march 
through Marblehead, hoping to capture in Salem and 
Danvers certain military stores. He found the draw- 
bridge between the two towns up. A scuffle ensued for 
the possession of two flat-boats. And North Bridge, 
Salem, might have taken its place in history instead of 
North Bridge, Concord. For Col. Pickering was the 
best educated military man in the State, and the Essex 
militia afterwards, at the close of that hot April day, 
showed of what stuff they were made. But neither party 
was anxious to precipitate hostilities. And Leslie agreed, 
that if, for honor's sake, he was permitted to march thirty 
rods beyond the bridge, he would abandon the objects 
of his expedition. About this time an affair of great 
seriousness took place at Westminister, the shire-town 
of Cumberland County, which then included the whole 
southern half of Vermont this side the mountains. 
Under the direction of some sort of a rude organization,, 
the people of Westminister and the vicinity took pos- 
session of the court-house March 13, and refused entrance 
to the royal judge, sheriff, and their attendants. A 



14 Concord Fight. 

parley ensued. It was agreed that the judge, without 
an armed force, should come mto the court-house and 
discuss matters with the malcontents. This agreement 
was broken by the sheriff. For at midnight he appeared 
with a considerable party and demanded admittance. 
Being refused, he gave orders to fire into the building. 
One man was killed and one wounded. This was the 
first American blood shed by direct command of a royal 
official, when at the time no violence was offered or 
threatened. But, as there was then in Vermont no State 
authority of any kind, patriotic or otherwise, this affair 
too must take its place among volunteer movements. 

Five hours before the fight at Concord, the first hos- 
tile meeting between organized American and organized 
British soldiers, each party acting under what it held 
to be legitimate authority, took place. Before sunrise 
on that morning, at the first intimation of danger, forty 
to seventy minute-men (the exact number is uncertain) 
assembled by order of their captain, John Parker, on 
the little green in front of Lexington church. The 
j)romptness with which these men responded to the 
call, the courage which they displayed in a hot encoun- 
ter later in the day, proves them to be entitled to the 
place of brave men among the bravest. As this party 
was drawn up across the upper end of the common, the 
sudden appearance of Maj. Pitcairn, his order to the 
Americans to disperse, and his quick command to his 
own soldiers to fire, made the quiet green the scene of 
a bloody massacre, and at the command of their cap- 
tain, the Lexington men dispersed, leaving one-quarter, 
if not one-third of their number, dead or wounded. 
There has been a long and often needlessly warm dis- 
cussion as to whether any guns were fired by the 
minute-men in return for the fatal volley which they 
received. Authorities certainly differ. And it is not 
possible quite to reconcile the adverse affidavits. So 
the question can never be absolutely settled. But a 
candid weighing of all the evidence makes it altogether 



CoNCOED Fight. 15 

probable that, as the company dispersed, three or four, 
and possibly eight or ten guns were fired. But, as a 
military encounter, the contest was hopeless from the 
beginning. Such shots as were fired were discharged, 
not only without the orders of Capt. Parker, but in di- 
rect opposition to them, and were prompted by the 
impulse and courage of the individuals themselves. 
Beyond inflicting slight flesh wounds upon a soldier or 
two, they did no damage to the enemy, and scarcely 
delayed his onward movement. "The blood of the mar- 
tyrs is the seed of the church." And it is impossible to 
exaggerate the importance of the cruel affair at Lexing- 
ton, in exciting sympathy, in arousing indignation, in 
giving courage to the timid, and in fusing all different 
feelings and opinions into one united sentiment of 
patriotism. It is with just reason, therefore, that the 
sons of Lexington, and the whole State, hold in solemn 
remembrance the brave men who fell that day. 

The peculiarities of the fight at old North Bridge, 
which divided it from all skirmishes or battles which 
had occurred previously, and which entitle it to distinct 
remembrance as an event of unsurpassed importance, 
are, that there every movement of the militia was made 
in accordance with the orders of those legitimately in 
command ; that there, for the first time, British soldiers 
fell before an American fire ; and, especially, that there 
the invader was turned back, once for all, never to 
make another hostile advance on Massachusetts soil, 
unless the few acres enlargement of his prison house, 
won by the awful slaughter at Bunker Hill, be called 
an advance. Other places have, and justly, their sacred 
memories. But within the bound of the original thir- 
teen States there is no spot more interesting than the 
two secluded green slopes, with the quiet river flowing 
between, where the soldiers of the king and the soldiers 
of the people met in military array and exchanged 
fatal volle3^s. 

"1775, 19 April. — This morning," writes the patriotic 



16 Concord Fight. 

Concord minister in his diary, " between one and two 
o'clock, we were alarmed by the ringing of the bell, 
and upon examining found that the troops, to the num- 
ber of eight hundred, had stolen their march from 
Boston in boats and barges, from the bottom of the 
Common over to a point in Cambridge near to Inman's 
farm. This intelligence was brought us first by Dr. 
Samuel Prescott, who narrowly escaped the guard that 
were sent before on horses, purposely to prevent all 
posts and messengers from giving us timely information. 
He, by the heljD of a very fleet horse, crossing several 
walls and fences, arrived at Concord at the time afore- 
mentioned ; when several posts were immediately dis- 
patched, that returning confirmed the account of the 
regulars arrival at Lexington, and that they were on 
the way to Concord." Such is the account of the first 
tidings of the invasion in the very words of one who 
was an eye-witness of the events which succeeded. It 
was probably about three o'clock before the town 
thoroughly comprehended its danger. The hurry, the 
confusion, the excitement, the alarm, which must have 
filled this little village durinar the four hours in which 
it awaited the coming of eight hundred mercenary sol- 
diers, can hardly be imagined, far less described. Every 
available man and team must be impressed to carry 
away or to hide the precious stores. The minute-men 
and members of the old military companies were pre- 
paring their arms and equipments for immediate service. 
Many of the women and children took to the woods 
for safety. Tradition preserves some simple anecdotes, 
which have not yet been recorded, and which reveal the 
varying humors of the time. Thus, one good lady, 
hearing that the regulars were coming, goes straight to 
the adjoining meeting-house, and takes the communion 
plate and buries it in her soap-barrel, in her cellar, in 
the arch under a great chimney which is still standing. 
Another, getting ready to take her children into the 
woods, in her confusion went to her drawer and put on 



Concord Fight. 17 

a checked apron, which in those days was the proper 
adornment on state occasions. This she unconsciously 
did over and over again, until, when she recovered her 
wits in her hiding-place, she found she had on seven 
checked aprons. No doubt every home had its tah, 
both pathetic and ludicrous, to tell. 

A little after sunrise two hundred armed men had 
come together. Three-quarters were from Concord, a 
few from Acton, and the rest minute-men and militia 
from Lincoln. Their advance was stationed a mile 
toward Lexington, at the end of that steep ridge which 
skirts the village on the north. The main body occu- 
pied, "as the most advantageous situation," the high 
point of that same ridge, directly opposite the meeting- 
house. A little before seven, the advance came hurrying 
back, saying that the enemy were at hand, and " their 
numbers were more than treble ours." A second po- 
sition was now taken, " back of the town, on an eminence." 
This was probably somewhere on that high land which 
borders Monument street, though some think at the ex- 
treme northern end of the ridge first occupied, which 
many years ago was levelled to give room for the court- 
house. "Scarcely had we formed," says the same diary, 
"before we saw the British troops, at a distance of a 
quarter of a mile, glittering in arms, advancing towards 
us with the greatest celerity." So high was the courage 
of our people, and so unwilling were they to retreat, 
that not a few insisted upon meeting the enemy then 
and there, though some estimated his numbers at twelve 
hundred, and none at less than eight hundred. Fiutdly, 
Col. James Barrett, who had been by the Provincial 
Congress put over all the forces in the neighborhood, 
and who about this time rode up, having been engaged 
since daybreak in securing the stores, ordered them to 
fall back over the bridge to Ponkawtasset Hill, a high 
eminence which overlooks the village, and their wait 
for reinforcements. This order was obeyed, as were all 
rightful orders given that day. By half-past nine the 



18 CoNCOKD Fight. 

Acton minute-men, two small companies from Bedford, 
and individuals from Westford, Carlisle, Chelmsford, and 
very likely from other places, had joined them. They 
numbered, perhaps four hundred and fifty, perhaps three 
himdred and fifty, — more likel}^ the last than the first. 
Meanwhile a small body of British troops occupied South 
Bridge. A hundred, under Capt. Laurie, guarded North 
Bridge, A hundred marched by the river road to seek 
for stores at Col. Barrett's, possibly to seek for the 
Colonel himself The main body of five or six hundred 
remained in the centre, looking, to very little purpose, 
for munitions of war. 

At this time smoke and flame, rising from the burn- 
ing of cannon wheels, became visible to these anxious 
watchers upon the hill. What was it ? Were the cruel 
enemy setting fire to their homes ? They could not 
longer remain inactive. A hurried debate was had. 
And then Col. Barrett gave orders to Maj John But- 
trick to lead the little force down the hill to the bridge, 
charging him not to fire unless he was fired upon. 
There has been a hot discussion as to the relative posi- 
tion of men and companies in this advance. We shall 
not enter into it ; for it belittles and insults a great 
event. Whether the Acton men led, or marched side 
by side with David Brown's Concord minute-men ; or, 
if they led, whether it was because they had a more 
forward courage, or, as Amos Baker, of Lincoln, testified, 
because they alone had bayonets with which to meet 
the enemy, if he should trust to steel rather than lead, 
— are questions which can never be settled. Enough, 
that in fact the Acton men did occiipy the post of 
greatest danger, and like brave men, as they were, held 
it firmly. But what swallows up every other consid- 
eration is the thought of the incredible courage which 
was in all these men. Was there not real courage in 
that Colonel, man of mark and position, foremost person 
of his town and neighborhood, with little to gain and 
much to lose, who, with his hair already whitening with 



Concord Fight. 19 

age, sat there on his horse, and issued a command which 
was nothing less than flat rebelhon, which could never 
be forgiven him, except at the end of a successful civil 
war ? Estimate for me, if you can, the courage of the 
last man in the last file of that little battalion ; his 
physical courage who dared, with a few hundred militia, 
to march down to attack what he believed to be three 
times their number of the best soldiers in the world ; 
his moral courage who, a plain farmer perhaps, averse 
to quarrels, law-abiding, in obedience to his political 
convictions was ready to confront with hostile weapons 
the servants of him who till that hour he had held to 
be his legitimate sovereign ! Merely to have contem- 
plated seriously such a step stamps all these men as 
heroes. 

What followed, everybody knows. The Americans 
marched down to within a few rods of the bridge, with 
wonderful self-restraint received a few scattering shots, 
which wounded Luther Blanchard, of Acton, and Jonas 
Brown, of Concord, and afterwards a volley by which 
Capt. Davis and Abner Hosmer, of Acton, were killed. 
Then rang out the startling order, " Fire, fellow-soldiers, 
for God's sake, fire ! " And from all those silent pieces 
poured forth a volley. It was a deadly one. Out of a 
hundred men, according to Gage's official statement, 
three were killed, and nine wounded, and, by the 
American account, three killed and eight wounded. 
Of the killed, one died immediately by a shot in the 
head. One expired before his comrades reached the 
village, and was buried in the old graveyard. One, 
mortally wounded, was cloven through the skull with a 
hatchet by a lad, at whom, says Chaplin Thaxter, he 
had made a thrust with his bayonet. From the window 
of the house now occupied by the Hon. John S. Keyes, 
a little girl of four years was looking out. She never 
forgot how pleased she was to see the two hundred 
British soldiers march by in perfect order, with their 
bright weapons and scarlet coats and white pantaloons. 



20 Concord Fight. 

or how terrified to see the same men come back, 
hurried, in disorder, muddy, a great many as it seemed 
to her, with limbs tied up and bloody. In^ the record 
of this hot skirmish, five names stand out to receive 
peculiar honor. First, Capt. Isaac Davis, of Acton, a 
modest manly soldier of only thirty years, who could 
say that he had trained up a company, not one of whom 
feared to follow him, who assumed his position with a 
full sense of its gravity, and died first of all in the front 
rank ; Maj. John Buttrick, of Concord, who himself, 
within sight and sound of his own home, led the advance, 
and at the right moment gave the word of command ; 
Col. John Eobinson, of Westford, who, reaching the 
field before his own townsman, as a volunteer walked 
side by side with Davis and Buttrick ; Lieut. Joseph 
Hosmer, of Concord, who acted as adjutant on that day, 
and by his earnest words, '' Will you let them burn 
the town down ? " determined that heroic march down 
the hill to the river ; Capt. William Smith, of Lincoln, 
who volunteered with his single company to attempt to 
dislodge the enemy from the bridge, — brave men were 
these, whose names must ever be connected with a 
memorable event, but possibly not braver than scores 
who that day played their part and are forgotten. 

Here, perhaps, dramatic unity would close the story. 
For here ends the fight at old North Bridge. The 
Americans pursued the retreating foe a few rods, until 
he was strongly reinforced, then, turning to the left, 
climbed the hill back of Mr. Keyes' house, from which 
they had in all probability descended in the morning. 
As it was evident that there was no intention to burn 
the town, the insane attempt to dislodge twice their 
number from what Emerson terms " the most advan- 
tageous situation " was not made. But the field of 
battle was really won. Irresolution and timidity had 
entered the British counsels; and, after various marches 
and countermarches, at twelve o'clock they began their 
terrible retreat. Then a strong detachment of Amer- 



Concord Fight. 21 

icans hurried across the great fields, and at Merriam's 
Corner, a mile and a quarter below the village, joined 
the Billerica ar.d Reading men in a fresh attack. Half 
a mile on, the Sudbury company came up, and there 
was a new struggle. On the edge of Lincoln, where 
then thick woods shut in the road, there was the 
severest encounter of the day. And so the fight merged 
into that persistent attack and pursuit, from all quarters 
of the British forces, through Lincoln, through Lexing- 
ton, through West Cambridge, through Charlestown 
almost to the water's edge, and to the protection of the 
great ships of war. In Lincoln it was that Cajot. Jona- 
than Wilson, of Bedford, who had been on the field 
among the earliest, through a too adventurous courage, 
died. During this pursuit, too, three out of the four 
Concord captains were wounded. So somewhere in 
that long route, if not at North Bridge, these men 
sought and found their post of danger. 

What were results of the Concord Fight? If we 
look only at its immediate results, then we say, of 
itself it baffled the plans of the royal Governor. 
Had nothing occurred after the encounter at North 
Bridge, had Col. Smith gone back peacefully to Boston, 
as over a parade ground, none the less he would have 
gone back defeated. He did not steal out from Boston, 
with the best soldiers of her garrison, and swiftly traverse 
the fields of Middlesex, that he might see the beauty 
of the country, — not even to slay, in unequal conflict, 
ten rebels. He came to ravage that provincial store- 
house and magazine which Concord was. And he failed. 
Quite likely great eftbrts had been made in the preced- 
ing weeks, and especially on the day before, to deplete 
that store-house. Certainly that morning, while await- 
ing his arrival, wonderful energy was displayed by the 
whole people in removing stores to places of safety. 
Every conceivable expedient was tried. They were 
removed to neighboring towns. They were concealed 
in thickets. They were hidden under straw and feathers. 



22 Concord Fight. 

and even under manure heaps. Col. Barrett took up a 
bed of sage in his garden, and there buried cannon and 
their wheels, and then planted his sage over them in 
the old place. One man plowed long, deep furrows, 
and filled them with kegs of powder, and then turned 
the next furrows over them. Still there was an ample 
supply left, if only time had been given to find it. In 
one shed, within a hundred feet of where the light 
infantry marched, more than eight tons of provisions 
were stored. But the stout skirmish at the bridge, and 
the increasing gathering on Jones' Hill, broke the 
courage of the British commander, and his achievements 
bore about the same relation to his original purpose 
that the scratch of a pin does to the deep wound 
which lets out the life-blood from the heart. 

In the uroduction of those greater results ; of that 
mighty wave of indignation, which, like a prairie fire, 
swept from before it every obstacle ; of that wonderful 
uprising, not only of all Massachusetts, but of all New 
England, and, we might add, of all America, and which 
made Boston, in one week, not a British conquest, but 
a British prison ; of that unanimity of patriotism which 
was all that was required to make the colonies uncon- 
querable, — in the creation of these certainly each of the 
three great events of the day, the massacre at Lexing- 
ton, the fight at Concord, the stubborn pursuit to 
Charlestown hills, did its part and had its influence, 
which most, who can tell ? Enough that the 19th of 
April really created the nation. And each town which 
helped on that day rightfully claims its share of the 
honor. 

One word, in closing. Emphatically — far more 
emphatically than is usually remembered — was the 
encounter at North Bridge a Concord Fight. Not one 
of the organized military bodies which shared with the 
old town her danger and her glory, but were bound to 
her by closest ties. They were literally bone of her 
bone and flesh of her flesh. Just twenty-one years 



Concord Fight. 23 

before that bright spring morning, the 19th of April, 
1754, the whole western half of Lincoln for the last 
time was included within her bomids. Forty years 
before, Acton, and forty-six years before, the larger part 
of Bedford, by her consent, and out of her broad fields, 
had been erected into separate municipalities. Carlisle, 
which had once gone out, was now, by its own request, 
back in the old relations. So it was Concord, — not 
the Concord of the narrow limits of to-day, but the 
Concord which the Puritan owned and planted, that 
larger Concord which once found its religious, yea, and 
its political, home in the very meeting-house which, 
unchanged, saw the invader advance and retreat, — 
that original Concord it was which " fired the shot heard 
round the world." 



9.S 



'i'^ 




o V 



•^^0^ 








^oK 







,-^^ /-""^ 



<r. 





^o V 












^TT,-' y ^^ 




O .I- * * o 




0' 














^^-v. 




^^..^^ ^^mid% U^a"^ : 



^-..^^ yM/A 








y .. ^-^'^»^''/' X'^'^y^^ "v^^^ 












'> 















•> 



A 



y 






V'^'' 








OOBBSBROS. '^^^^^^ "^O V 

LKHARY BINOINQ • ^^Btrf^''^^- * r\ 

ST. AUGUSTINE ^ 0)^5^ ». o 






